Page 13 of Destined Mate (Cross Creek Pack of San DeLain)

Chapter Eight

Wesley

MORNING ARRIVED with a flurry of activity as Wesley and his pack prepared for the first meeting he had with one of the prominent leaders of San DeLain.

The sun cast a golden hue over the city, illuminating the streets with a warm glow. Wesley sipped his coffee from the in-room coffeemaker, staring outside.

Mentally, he reviewed the subjects he planned to bring up. He was as ready as he was going to get. He began with Kage Dargan, who, surprised by Wesley’s call, was interested enough to schedule a meeting.

He’d chosen Kage because he had a strong connection to the other alpha werewolf based there in San DeLain. Plus, Kage was a daemon, a paranormal who manipulated shadows and created portals from them.

This ability was not just a skill, but a weapon of immense terror. Daemons could slip through the darkness, emerging anywhere they desired. With such an intimidating capability, Wesley needed to stay on the elder’s good side, aware of the influence and control he wielded.

After enjoying a quick and fulfilling breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, Wesley and his pack collected their things and piled into their roomy SUV.

THE MEETING went off without a hitch, and to Wesley’s surprise, he found himself genuinely impressed with Elder Kage. He carried himself with a dignified grace and an aura of wisdom that was hard to overlook.

But beyond admiration, there was the fact that Wesley actually liked the man. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he settled back into the plush leather seat of the SUV.

Only four days remained until the challenge. He planned to meet with the dragon king the next day in one of his offices in downtown San DeLain.

That evening, he had a meeting schedule with the vampire master at Club Nomadic. Every meeting was vital, as he understood whatever impression he made could influence how the leaders viewed him.

“Where to next?” Theo asked as he started the SUV, then buckled up.

“I vote for lunch,” Keith proposed, settling in next to Wesley in the back seat.

“Yeah, I’m hungry too,” Duncan chimed in from the front seat. “So? Where to? The hotel’s restaurant or somewhere else?”

“How about that place called Rafferty’s I mentioned last night? It’s just a basic bar and grill,” Wesley suggested, glancing at the group.

They were all clad in khaki pants and knit shirts, clothing perfectly suited for the casual, laid-back atmosphere of such a place.

In stark contrast, Kage had stood out in a sleek designer suit, making them appear quite underdressed. The dark fabric of his suit had shimmered under the light, a testament to its quality.

Unfortunately, none of them had thought to bring suits. Their focus was firmly on the task at hand—competing for leadership of Cross Creek—not on making an impression on the authorities in San DeLain.

The objective was clear, and in their minds, appearances were secondary to ambition. At least, that was his story, and he was sticking to it.

Frankly, he was more comfortable in jeans and a shirt. A sudden transformation would cause Wesley to tear an expensive suit to pieces, or he’d discard it in the grass or dirt if given the chance to undress.

Could he afford such clothing? Of course. It didn’t mean it was practical for everyday living for him. But Wesley planned to come out of that challenge as the new alpha, so no harm, no foul, right?

After settling on Rafferty’s, Theo located the address on the SUV’s display and drove off. The GPS smoothly navigated them through the city grid, leading them to the restaurant with no trouble.

Wesley took in the sights as they drove, eyes flitting from the high-rises to the bustling cafés and art galleries. He found himself invigorated by the city’s vibrant energy, yet he yearned for the untamed beauty of nature—its wildness and boundless freedom.

Here, everything had been designed within an inch of its life.

Wesley understood the necessity of adapting to this environment if he were to succeed in his plans. It wasn’t merely about leading a pack. It was essentially helping to oversee an entire city. A massive city.

As they parked and headed inside, Wesley couldn’t shake a growing sense of urgency that had been slowly building since last night. It was as if a tiny, relentless whisper nagged at his thoughts, urging him to pay attention to something just beyond his grasp.

However, that wasn’t the source of the urgency. Something was off, but he didn’t know what.

Inside Rafferty’s, they grabbed a booth by the window, then ordered their food. Keith didn’t waste time tearing into a basket of fries.

“Damn, this is good,” Duncan said, stealing a fry.

Wesley chuckled. “Enjoy it while you can. You’ll be back to cooking your own food soon enough.”

“Not if I have a place like this close by, so I’m gonna need you to make that happen for me,” Duncan remarked.

“Yup, keeping you happy is high on my priority list,” Wesley said.

Duncan snorted. “As it should be.”

Theo dipped his mozzarella sticks into marinara sauce. “Who’s up next again?”

“Hudson. Raven sleeps during the day, remember?” Wesley answered carefully. Then his gaze snagged on something—no, someone—familiar across the street. “Shit.”

“What?” Keith asked immediately.

“Anya Frost of Blackwater Ridge is about to walk in. What are the damn odds?” Wesley hadn’t expected to see her until the challenge.

If she was here this early, it meant she took the competition even more seriously than he’d thought. Wesley both admired that and found it alarming.

“Think she’ll recognize you?” Duncan asked, glancing at the door.

Wesley nodded. “Most likely. I looked up everyone. No reason to think she didn’t.”

“She’s by herself,” Theo noted, casually craning his neck to see through the window.

“Or wants us to think she is,” Keith said around a mouthful of burger.

Anya entered, scanning the room, then her gaze locked onto Wesley, and he saw surprise flicker across her face. That pleased him. He noticed that she approached them with the assured stride of someone who feared no one and nothing.

“Wesley.” Anya dipped her head slightly in respect to another alpha.

“Anya.” Wesley returned the head bob.

“You’ve made it to San DeLain after all. Wasn’t sure you’d show,” Anya said.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Quite the coincidence meeting you here.”

“Isn’t it?” Anya grinned.

Wesley motioned to his pack. “This is Keith, Theo, and Duncan.”

All three nodded at her, careful not to make eye contact for long.

“Brought help, huh?” Anya mused, eyeing them.

“Brought pack you mean,” Wesley said so softly no human could hear what he said.

Anya frowned.

“Why not join us?” Wesley suggested, ignoring the warning look Keith shot him.

She hesitated briefly before sliding into their booth with the confident ease of someone accustomed to taking any seat at the table—and holding it.

“How do you like San DeLain so far?” Anya asked as she sat down, sweeping her dark hair behind her shoulder.

“It’s not so different from San Diego,” Wesley said carefully.

“I suppose not,” Anya replied as she signaled a server over, ordered a drink, then turned back to them.

Wesley settled into the meal that was no longer relaxing. As they talked, each question felt like fencing—thrust met with parry, neither offering more than necessary but each trying to read between every line spoken.

Through it all, Wesley watched her carefully for any hint of weakness but saw none. Instead, he found himself respecting her more than he wanted to admit. She was clever and calculating—a formidable rival, indeed.

“So, which leader did you ingratiate yourself with this morning?” Anya asked suddenly.

He didn’t flinch at how close to home her words hit. “Elder Kage,” he admitted freely.

“Ah,” she said softly.

So, she knew exactly who Kage was. She’d done her homework.

When her drink arrived, she rose smoothly from the booth with it in hand. “This has been enlightening,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away.

“Well, that was a dismissal if I’ve ever seen one,” Theo said, jamming a fry into the ketchup.

“She came prepared,” Keith said.

“Yes, she did. But that’s okay. I’m prepared too,” Wesley said.

Now that he’d seen his competition, the twisting, burning desire within him to claim alphaship of Cross Creek was growing ever more intense.

The primal urge of his wolf was relentless, a fierce insistence that victory was imperative, and defeat was simply not an option.

Once they finished their meal, they exited the restaurant. As soon as they were outside, Wesley’s senses heightened, becoming more in tune with the pulsating energy surrounding them.

“She didn’t get under your skin, did she?” Keith asked, falling into step next to him.

“Nope. Just makes me want it even more.”

Keith nodded. “Good.”

As they walked through the parking lot, he put Anya’s presence out of his mind. Her presence was unexpected, yes, but she had every right to be there.

The competition wasn’t just about brute strength and force.

It was also a test of cunning and strategy.

Wits played a crucial part too. He couldn’t afford even the smallest distractions if he wanted to come out on top, he mused, as the streets of San DeLain blurred past as they did some sightseeing.

The city felt restless, buzzing with energies both familiar and new. Wesley’s thoughts flickered to the stories he’d heard—the old legends about how the alphas had formed these packs, how they’d claimed dominance over San DeLain.

Now it was his turn to leave a mark.

They parked and strolled into a bustling marketplace, where they indulged in a bit of shopping for loved ones back home. The vibrant chatter of vendors and the colorful display of goods lining the stalls filled the air.

Tourists meandered aimlessly, their faces lit with excitement and curiosity, blissfully unaware of what walked with them. He watched them with detachment. They were so different from them.